A Whole New Theory
by Your Undying Fan
Summary: Is it true?  Is it true that magic folk can't survive without their magic?  None believed it, except the Unspeakables. . .and someone else.  But with two deaths already, it looks like they're too late. HL HrR Post Deathly Hallows
1. Prologue

**A Whole New Theory**

_By Cassandra_

**Disclaimer **

_The characters in this story (except for OC's they're mine ;.;) belong solely to J.K. Rowling, I am making NO profit off this work._

**Prologue **

Rose Marie Knight was always looked upon as a skilled witch. Talent and intelligence rolled off of her in waves. She had the flawless appearance of a powerful witch, both physically and mentally. Of course, it was all a façade.

It was only natural, especially for one so infatuated with appearance. It just wouldn't do to appear weak at a time such as this. In her book, it was just as much a sin as wearing plaid on Sundays. Simply unthinkable.

'Lying never pays.' Her mother had told her, but she wasn't really lying, was she? Telling a few stories never hurt anyone, except perhaps Lockhart. He, however, was far out of style. Smiling too much is almost as bad as appearing weak.

Having people look up to you for things you didn't do could be difficult, but all exhaustion could be dismissed as the price for being 'in'. Besides, no one would ever seriously take an interest in her little white lies. It's not like she was going public. It's not like being talented would single her out, right? Besides, appearance really was her 'thing', not magic.

Upon being abducted, many many thoughts ran through Rose Marie Knight's head. Many thoughts and many questions that simply could not be answered.

Her first thought upon awakening in an unfamiliar place was: It's not 'in' to stun someone while they are at unawares.

Her second though upon being interrogated about her lies was: It wouldn't do to not set a good example for the fashion perpetrators; therefore, her lies stood firm.

Her third thought upon feeling her magic drain little by little out of her body was: I guess lying doesn't pay after all.

Her fourth thought upon listening to the cold, cruel laughter of one she thought could only exist in child horror stories was: I'm not even dying in a fashionable way.

Opinions differ, of course, but none can deny that Rose Marie Knight died in a very suitable way to her character. The scene itself wasn't very 'fashionable', but few ever actually saw it.

I think, however, that when it all came down, it really wasn't her 'thing' to lie bloody and broken on a cold stone floor, not an ounce of magic left within her empty green eyes.

'-;-'

Kendrix Micheal Gregor was an extremely talented musician. Whatever magic existed in him could be found in every piece of music he had ever written. He could mold notes and sounds, beats and measures, until a perfect composition could be heard.

In his home was a collection of different pieces of music, a lot of it written by he himself, and the rest by his favorite composers. Bach, Mozart, Tchiakovsky, even now a piece by William Henry Monk was drifting through his home. 'Abide With Me'. Simply beautiful.

He was an honest man, if not a little on the odd side. He was good-humored, well natured, and extremely quiet. If the man had any special magical talents, he kept them well to himself. There was no reason to show off ones powers, not when there was music to be written.

When a great cacophony of contrasting sounds filled the old man's home, he knew immediately something was seriously wrong. He didn't think about fashion, or style, he thought of safety. He thought of using what he had for protection, and not for music.

He put up a good fight none can argue that. The light from different spells could be seen miles away. The noise was unbearable, but the old man neither saw nor heard anything. He knew what had to be done.

However, knowledge alone is not enough. Kendrix Micheal Gregor failed, not horribly, but he failed. His thoughts were true, but his wand was not. In the end, perhaps music was his only true unbeatable skill.

Everyone saw the scene. The whole wizarding community knew what it looked like when the Aurors walked into the old man's home. None, however, could describe how it felt. None better than the Aurors themselves.

The house was a shambles. Amidst the rubble of fallen bookcases and shattered lamps lay a tattered note, the scrawling script reminiscent of a Dark Lord who lived not to long ago. The note read 'There are none worthy.' And was signed by no one.

In the back room, amidst scattered pages of music, lay Kendrix himself. 'Abide With Me' rang softly through the air, what an honor it was to die with music. However, upon listening to some of his own compositions, trying to decide which piece to play at his funeral, they discovered the magic was gone from the notes.

Two very different people they were, though not quite so different at all. Perhaps there was still much to fear in the wizarding world.

-­--

**A/N- **So I saw this as totally different, but I think that's my punishment. XD

Contract-I, the author, am absolutely terrible at chapter fics; therefore, I am henceforth relieved of my duties of 1) Plot 2)Continuity and 3) Updating on a regular basis. Signed-Cassie.

Ok, there's a reason why I don't do chapter fics, but this was just. . .nagging at me. Yes, I'll continue. And I swear I'll do my best not to run out. I've got this one a little more planned than my others. Please give me feedback, tell me where I messed up and how I can improve. I'll do my best.


	2. Chp I: Burn

**Disclaimer**

_Hey guys, guess what. I don't own Harry Potter!_

**Chapter One**

'_Intending to Burn_

_Pretending to fight it_

_Everyone Learns_

_Faster on fire_

_Things to a turn_

_Lost all desire_

_You live and you burn'_

'_Burn' by _Alkaline Trio

Thinking of her hurt. She would never tell anyone, of course, but the knives that burrowed inside her heart every time she thought of her mother truly hurt. She missed her so much.

_I'm so much like her_. She thought as her fingers brushed lightly over the ivory keys of her piano. The melancholic tune she subconsciously played neither matched nor soothed her mood. Her mother had been an excellent pianist.

'If you believe, truly believe, you will never fail.' She couldn't help but wonder what she had done to contradict her mother's words as she had. Her mother had always been right, always, but now her words had seemingly fallen flat. Her mother had failed her?

No, she had failed her mother. No matter how many times she thought it through, she always came to the same conclusion. She simply wasn't all that her mother had expected her to be.

She had failed in the worst way. She had failed in a way that could possibly condemn an entire society. She had failed in a way that threatened the very existence of magic.

That was why she sat in her destroyed and scattered office, silent tears dripping onto the old piano in the corner. Papers filled with scribbled notes drifted down around her, adding to the clutter. Bits of ash clung to her face and hair, giving her an almost-dead appearance.

"Professor?" The young woman looked up, her joyous tune abruptly ending. A young boy, barely eleven, stood in her doorway, a lost look upon his face. His ruffled blonde hair was matted with dried blood, his hazel eyes misted over.

"The Department of Mysteries has been attacked," Eighteen-Year-Old Luna Anna Lovegood put one pale hand on the young boy's shoulder. "And we managed to lose the most important thing of all."

"No, Professor," The young boy looked calmly up at Luna. "We didn't lose you."

If anything, that much was true. Luna smiled and sent the boy to search for any remaining research, just as another woman about her age with long, flaming red hair walked briskly up to her. Ginny Weasley, unlike the others Luna had seen, was not covered in blood; in fact, she was coated from head to foot in thick, black slime.

"Your notes?" Luna could see her best friends hopeful expression, even through the grime.

"Gone" The shoulders of both girls sagged visibly. "What wasn't taken was burned."

"How original." The dry sarcasm in Ginny's voice sent quiet tendrils of shock through Luna's mind. Ginny didn't joke in hard situations. A million thoughts ran through Luna's mind, ending only in reminiscences of her utter failure. Her research was classified for very good reason, now it was gone.

"It could have been predicted, yes." Luna's gaze fell back to her piano. She lightly brushed away the coating of ash that had settled on the keys with her fingertips. When she finally looked back up to meet her friend's gaze, her eyes were coated with a thin film of unshed tears. "My research is directly linked."

"Let's go, Luna." Ginny lightly put her hand on the young woman's back in a comforting gesture. Her own eyes filled with tears at the thought of what all this could mean. "We can leave clean-up to others. I think our duties lie at the scene.

-;-'

Harry James Potter had seen more than enough in his nineteen years of life, but seeing the old musician lying amidst scattered sheets of music, eyes open and vacant, blood trickling slowly out of his hanging mouth killed him inside.

Perhaps the most troubling aspect of the man's death, however, was the complete lack of reason. They could find neither scratch nor contusion on the old man's body. The blood leaking out of his mouth had absolutely no source. He had simply died.

From old age? Harry thought not. Signs of a struggle were written throughout the house as clearly as the notes on paper. Blast marks on the walls told of spells that never reached their target, or rather, were never even meant to.

Harry was drawn from his position next to the dead man by a light rapping at the door. Knock twice and enter, perhaps it was a rule, because whoever it was didn't wait for him to answer.

"Has anything been moved?" A light dreamy voice called from the living room. Harry whipped around the corner to find himself face-to-face with an old school friend. Luna smiled nonchalantly up at him, looking for the entire world as if she was taking a stroll in the park.

"Um, no, not that I know of." Harry straightened his tie and smoothed out his suit. He had no idea what business Luna Lovegood had at the scene of a crime, but he was certain that he would be professional and find out. "What are you doing here, Luna?"

"Oh, investigating." Harry had to restrain himself from hitting himself upon hearing the condescending tone in her voice. "Crime scenes are very common meeting places for the Two-Toothed Trouble Tramper."

"Luna this isn't. . ."

"Oh, I know, Harry." She interrupted him, giving him another absent smile. Harry stiffened as she pulled a crumpled paper out of her pocket, handing it over to him. It was a letter from the Minister of Magic himself, relieving him of his duties at the scene. "I believe I can take it from here, Mr. Potter."

"But. . ." Harry looked incredulously at his old friend, studying her dreamy expression with great intensity. He was an Auror; it was _his_ job to investigate mysterious deaths. It was _his_ job to track down whoever had caused it in the first place. Luna Lovegood was _not_ an Auror, why the hell was she taking over his investigation.

"Don't worry, Harry, you're not completely off the case." She touched his arm lightly, leading him to the front door. "There will be plenty more to see, I'm afraid. For now, however, I really need you to leave."

Harry shuffled angrily out the front door, stopping only briefly to look back on Luna as she slowly resumed what he had started. He would get to the bottom of this; he was Harry Potter after all.

-;-'

A sigh of relief escaped Luna's lips as she watched Harry apparate back to wherever Auror Headquarters were. This made her job a lot easier. There would be some other time, possibly very soon, to explain to the young man what was happening.

She made her way into the office where the man's body lay, leaning down to check his body over. She didn't need much more confirmation than she already had; the real purpose of her visit was simply to verify reports. The vacant expression in his dead eyes was all the verification she needed.

She walked slowly out the back door, the nonchalant expression on her face replaced by one of sad determination. She examined the old manor one last time before pointing her wand at the open bedroom window and setting the entire thing aflame.

A final tear wound it's way down her cheek as the sounds of popping and splitting wood filled the air. In the office, the old man's body slowly disintegrated. Unspeakables left no evidence, not even bodies, and Luna Anne Lovegood was no exception.

- - -

**A/N- **First off, I TOLD YOU SO! I cannot rush writing, it takes forever, because I need inspirations.

Second of all, screw the freaking Epilogue. The Epilogue sucks. . . . . .that is all.


	3. Chp II: Lies

**Disclaimer**

_I don't own HP ;.;_

**Chapter Two**

'_Bound at every limb by my shackles of fear_

_Sealed with lies through so many tears_

_Lost from within, pursuing the end_

_I fight for the chance to be lied to again.'_

'_Lies' by _Evanescence

For once she just needed to be late, for his sake. Of course, that wouldn't happen anytime in the near future. At exactly ten-o-clock a.m. Luna Anne Lovegood walked in the door of a quaint muggle coffee shop just off Central Avenue. She checked her watch just to be sure, gave a bright smile, and made a b-line straight towards the table where Harry Potter sat sipping a double shot.

"That'll stunt your growth, you know?" She situated herself in the seat across from him, gently smiling. He merely offered a grunt in return, continuing to sip slowly at his coffee. "What is that, anyway? How much caffeine?"

"Double shot, and I dunno." She had changed, immensely. She still believed in many crazy things, she still held a 'loony' reputation. It was in her eyes. That had to be it. She had always had that unnerving knack for seeing the truth for what it was and pointing it out. She had always had a very studious gaze, but now, as he sat staring intently into her bright blue orbs, he felt as if he was being examined, inside and out.

She had changed in the way she presented herself. She almost resembled a professor, dressed curtly but not enough to take away from her natural beauty, stiff yet carefree enough to show her true spirit. In a way, that's what he had expected of her ever since he had first met her, but to see it now, it just seemed so wrong. Was this truly Luna?

He found himself wondering just what she had done with her life. After leaving Hogwarts, Luna had quite literally disappeared. True, he had received a letter, but he had seen neither hide nor hair of her since attending her graduation. Perhaps she had taken some undercover position with the Aurors, she did seem to have amazing insight into his affairs.

Seeing her at the crime seen of the late Mr. Gregor had been both thrilling and disappointing for Harry. This was one of the largest investigations since Voldemort's reign, and she had skipped in and snatched it right out of his hands. He was excited to have seen her for the first time in the past year, yes, but did she have to take his case?

But had he really been that happy to see her?

He had a well-established life after graduating. So sitting around and doing nothing wasn't quite enough for him, no matter. He had settled nicely into the routines and quirks of being an Auror. He had a welcoming ground floor apartment just south of the local train stations. The quiet rumbling of passing trains would ease him into sleep each night.

He hadn't slept last night, not after seeing Luna at least. The entire night he was up tossing and turning, trying to figure out why the hell she had taken the case. He'd never heard of such a service as secret Aurors. He did a background check on both victims and found no relations tying them to Luna. Hell, he even background checked Luna.

Of course, that's where the trouble lay. Luna's background check was flawless as ever. Apparently she had taken a job overseas as a naturalist. Her business lay in Sweden on a search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack that was, so far, fruitless.

It explained her seeming disappearance, her detachment, and it even seemed a very 'Luna' thing to do, but it didn't explain her involvement in the case. That's why he had called this meeting with her. He would get to the bottom of this, even if having coffee with Loony Luna Lovegood and discussing Two-Toothed Trouble Trampers was what it took.

"Shall we make small talk?" He grinned playfully as she raised an eyebrow at him. It wasn't until she had perused her menu for ten minutes and finally ordered plain, black coffee that she spoke up.

"Lovely weather?" A small giggle escaped her. This would be fun.

"Quite. Although, I think it's going to rain." She glanced out the window at the brightly shining sun. Not a cloud in sight. "It's possible. What do you think?"

"I think it already is." She shot another glance his way as the waitress came with the coffee. He had an almost smug grin on his face. She knew he hadn't called her here for just small talk, but he didn't seem to want to be outright about it. It was against her nature, but his game was to fun to pass up.

"Oh? How bad?" That was a little more blunt. More to her liking.

"You decide." They exchanged sad glances. It was no secret that whatever was going on with the latest two murders didn't bode well for anyone. When even the finest of medics at St. Mungo's couldn't find out what exactly had caused these deaths, people knew something was seriously wrong.

Of course, the ministry was doing everything within their power to keep the nature of the deaths quiet. However, as with all truly serious happenings, the public could get the general gist of the situation. There was not a single person within the ministry, or even the public for that matter, which had any clue what was going on. Harry had the sinking feeling that perhaps Luna did.

"Why were you there yesterday, Luna?" He put his cup down perhaps a little to hard on the table, openly glaring at his teatime companion.

"Come now, you're cheating!" She was laughing. She was actually laughing when he was being completely serious.

"Luna! I'm not kidding. I _need_ to know. Why were you at _my_ crime scene yesterday?"

"A bit possessive are we? I could very well ask how it's your crime scene, Mr. Potter." There she went again. She had never since he'd known her called him Mr. Potter. Why did she feel it so necessary now? It was almost as if he could visibly see her click over from a friend to a professional.

"You know what I meant."

"In these times, Harry, I can't assume anything, even if you're a friend." She gazed sadly at him through foggy blue eyes. Harry merely nodded and resumed with his coffee. A silence pregnant with understanding and muddled thoughts fell between them then. They had both thought that the days of wondering which of their family would be dead the next day were over.

Harry's thoughts consisted mostly of Luna. He could tell she was bothered. He could tell she wasn't going to release any information voluntarily, and there was no way he would force it out. Just from her eyes he could convey something was terribly amiss. How she knew about it almost seemed irrelevant now. Of course, he would find out in due time, but for now he could settle for understanding her silence. He could find out by gaining her trust.

Luna's thoughts consisted mostly of mistakes that didn't have to have been made. The guilt she felt would never fade, never, and she knew that. This conversation wouldn't be happening if she had let things be. Sure, she had wanted to see Harry, but she hadn't wanted people to die in the process.

-;-'

"You really need to calm down." Brayden Charmicle tried to calm the infuriated Harry Potter down whilst trying to avoid being hit with flying paperweights. Upon entering his office after his little tea party with Ms. Lovegood, he had seemingly flown into a rage.

"Calm down? Don't tell me to calm down!" He threw a pink, sand-filled weight at the nearest wall, watching it shatter upon impact. "Something is really wrong here, Brayden, and she won't tell me what the hell it is?"

"It can't be that serious." At this Harry stopped, aiming his livid gaze at his partner. "They assigned that loon to the case."

"That's just it!" He collapsed into his office chair, stretching his aching legs as it rolled back a few feet, massaging his temples with his fingers. "What the hell does Luna Lovegood have with this case? She's not an Auror. Hell, according to her records, she's a naturalist is Sweden."

"Maybe they feel an animal is behind the deaths?" Sometimes Harry seriously thought the ministry had purposefully chosen the dumbest person to pair him with.

"There would have been marks of some kind." He leaned his head back on the black cushion of his chair. "I can tell you this right now, if she really was looking for a Two-Toothed whatever, she wouldn't have burnt the house to the ground."

"Maybe they mate in fire." Brayden found himself incapable of dodging the flying paperweight that came hurtling at his head.

"Speaking of that fire, did you find anything?" Harry looked over at his partner, laughing lightly as the man massaged a very bright red spot mid forehead.

"No, nothing." Harry played idly with the scattered papers all over his desk. She had really made it difficult for him. "Oh! I forgot to tell you. The note that was found at the scene, the one that we took back to the ministry, it's gone." Brayden once again found himself dodging a flying object, but he felt less inclined to be hit with a laptop than a paperweight.

-;-'

She was right on time. Ten-o-clock p.m. rolled on and Luna was sitting in Harry's destroyed office, tense and shaky, looking close to tears. When Harry walked into his office ten minutes late he felt all feelings of anger fade away when he saw her. Something really was wrong.

"A rose is an interesting thing, Harry." She looked up at him; eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "It can seem flawless, beautiful, but you have to go through an entire bush full of thorns before you can reach it. Some roses, Harry, have more thorns than others."

"What's going on, Luna?" He hated it when anyone skirted around the subject.

"Sometimes, you spend years trying to pick through the thorns of a rose, knowing that what you will find at the end is as beautiful as any of the others." She stood from his black office chair, walking across the room to grab his hand tentatively, as if at any second he would rip it from her. "You spend all these years looking for it, and in the end it's ugly, deformed."

"Luna, tell me what happened." He squeezed her hand gently, wiping the tears that were slowly beginning to leak down her face.

"I made a mistake, Harry." He could see the Remorse in her eyes, the Fear, the Guilt.

"What did you do?" He narrowed his eyes, gazing purposefully through the windows that were once her eyes.

"Ron is dead."

- - - -

A/N- 

_Those Two-Toothed Trouble Trampers can be vicious. They tend to sneak into your bedroom at around midnight and eat any possible ideas you have for the next chapter of your story._

_They're pretty good at eating homework, too._

_Anywho, I love reviews, really I do. Even if you don't like it, it would be nice to know where I can improve. Constructive criticism is muchly appreciated._


	4. Chapter III: Our Farewell

**Disclaimer**

_Haha, that's a song. Anyway, this is Rowling's stuffs._

**Chapter Three**

_'But there is nothing but silence now_

_Around the one I loved._

_Is this our farewell?_

_'Our Farewell' - _Within Temptation

10:00 a.m.

Luna snapped into place beside Harry, her breath coming in quick, almost-nervous gasps. She took one hand and clung to the sleeve of Harry's wool coat, her fingers threatening to tear holes in the tough material. Glancing up at him for the first time, a solemn expression adorning her pale features, she nodded a silent 'Yes'.

Harry, for his part, just stood there, unfeeling. His limbs felt cold and stiff, his heart frozen. The world around him flew; everything seemed to move so fast that it was all a blur. Fellow Aurors bumped and jostled him, but he paid them no heed. It wasn't until Luna tugged lightly on his coat and said his name softly that everything seemed to come to a dead stop.

"Are you ready?" He looked down into her shining blue eyes, contemplating, for a moment, her question.

"When will I ever be ready to see my best friend dead?" Despite his quiet, cracking voice, he stood up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders.

"Never." She stated bluntly, digging her fingers yet deeper into his coat. "You know, you don't have to do this?"

"Yes." He put his hand over hers on his jacket, smiling sadly down at her. "I need to know, Luna. Whoever is doing this just made it personal."

"Alright." She muttered quietly, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze and removing her clenched fist from his coat. Ignoring the quizzical expression that crossed his face, she started to pull him slowly into the ramshackle home of one Ronald Weasley.

Closing his eyes, Harry allowed the girl to lead him through the front door, thousands of thoughts buzzing through his mind. It wasn't until they reached the dining room that he opened his eyes again.

Everything was perfect. The table was set for two, complete with full glasses of red wine. The smell wafting through the stale air was rich with the scent of uneaten roast. Even the mashed potatoes formed a perfect, untouched mountain.

The dust, accented by the perfect evening sun filtering through the slightly drawn windows, seemed to suffocate Harry. The world around him slowed significantly in a seeming attempt to match his best friend.

Next to the perfect table, just behind the perfect stack of papers, and directly next to the perfect line of Defense books lay Ronald Weasley. His posture, splayed and frayed as he was, was anything but perfect.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, and the world fell deafeningly silent. He barely noticed when Luna gently held his hand, patting the back softly. The tear that ran forlornly down his cheek slid silently down to his chin, idling for a heartbreaking moment before falling to the ivory carpet.

Luna gave Harry's hand one final pat before gliding to the ground next to Ron's body. A couple of times her hand darted towards his head or his chest, only to be brought back instantly on second thought. Her eyes squinted and she chewed on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. She finally looked up to one of the Aurors, eyes alight, and nodded them out of the room.

She watched as one of them pulled Harry away, struggling the whole time. "You can't stay, Mr. Potter."

"Hell if I'll let you take me away!" Harry wasn't someone to mess with, even on an off day. When he reached into his pocket to pull out his wand, his former colleagues didn't want to be within ten feet of him; however, one could hardly consider the mere lint he came out with dangerous.

For a moment, Harry fell still. He looked up slowly to meet the twinkling eyes of the girl kneeling beside Ron. A kind of fear ran through his veins as the others pulled him out of the room. _My wand. Where's my wand?_

Silence feel once again around Luna as the door shut behind the chaotic group. A pang of guilt wound through her as she pulled Harry's wand from her own pocket, laying it gently on the soft carpet beside her. He hadn't even noticed when she'd pick-pocketed him.

Forcing her gaze away from Harry's only lifeline, she pulled her own wand from behind her ear and a small wooden box out of nowhere. She opened the first compartment of the box to reveal another, which opened to another, which led to yet another. By the time she was through, she had opened thirty different compartments and was surround by multiple objects of all shapes and sizes.

She spread a plastic sheet beneath the body carefully, pulled back his shirt, and made her first incision.

-;-

Harry watched the door of Ron's home with bated breath. He may even have suffocated had not his partner, Brayden, shown up. Brayden's obnoxious _bam_ of apparation not only caused Harry to breathe, but to jump a few feet as well.

"You alright?" One look at Harry could very well answer that question, but it was always polite to ask.

"She made me leave."

"How did it look?"

"I needed to stay, but she made me _leave._"

"Same signs as the others?"

"Not only did she force me out, but I think she has my wand."

"How did she get your wand? No one ever gets your wand!" Harry finally looked over at his eccentric partner, nodding. "Shady."

"I'm not entirely sure. It was in my pocket when I went in there, but when I tried to use it as they were taking me out, it was gone."

"What makes you so sure it was her that took it?" Brayden gave him a skeptical look. Harry Potter losing his wand in any situation was unheard of.

"Her eyes." For once, Brayden was silent. He looked over at his partner worriedly before finally speaking up.

"Dude, you need a break. Anyway, I wouldn't trust that loon, if I were you." He started a slow walk around the house.

"Why's that?" Harry, who had opted to follow, came around beside him. "I've known Luna since I was fifteen, and, aside from being extremely odd, she's never given me a reason to mistrust her."

"I was just saying." He shrugged.

"Well don't say. She's fine. I know her."

"Do you really?" Harry paused for a moment, a quiet chill running up his spine. _No_.

"I . . ."

"Exactly." Brayden resumed his stroll along the fence after Harry had regained his composure. "My guess is she's changed a lot since you last saw her."

"True."

"I can tell you one thing. She sure as hell isn't an environmentalist."

"What makes you say that?"

"She stole your case, and your wand." He said through laughter, infuriating Harry.

"Where's a paperweight when you need one?" A smile broke through his anger.

"Why do you need a paperweight?" An airy, female voice from behind them caused both men to jump. Luna giggled into her neon pink scarf. "You know, for Aurors, you two are pretty easy to sneak up on."

"I assume you're Miss Lovegood?" Brayden asked through clenched teeth. Harry, for his part, laughed at his clearly agitated partner.

"Am I?" Luna's eyes widened to an unimaginable size, causing Harry to erupt in even more laughter, nodding at Brayden through watery eyes. "I guess I am."

"Er. . .How's your research going?" Brayden, clearly thrown off, grasped for a topic.

"Oh, it's wonderful!" She looked absolutely overjoyed at being asked, and bounced on her heels. Harry's laughter died out. Maybe they could learn something of her involvement. "I haven't found a Snorkack yet, but I did discover an entirely new species, the Two-Toothed Trouble Tramper."

_Damn._ Harry glanced over at Brayden, who looked almost disgusted. "Which brought you back here?"

"Oh yes. I heard of what was going on, you see?" Her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I think they may be behind all this."

"Awfully violent things, then."

"Oh no, only when provoked. I've got all my research here, if you want to take a look." She took a few steps towards the front yard before Brayden stopped her.

"I'd love to, really, but I've got work to do at the office." With that, Brayden made a frantic get away.

"I think he's lying." Luna leaned against Harry, giggling lightly. "He didn't seem to keen on the idea."

"I don't think so either." Harry smiled down at Luna.

"He's a silly man." She fiddled with her scarf in an almost nervous fashion.

"He may be silly off the field, but you don't want to cross him. He could rival some of the best." Harry made his way towards the front of the house, taking a seat on the steps.

"Maybe it's time to leave now, Harry." Luna kneeled down before him, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Harry couldn't help but remember her in that exact same position next to Ron's dead body.

"I'm not leaving this house." He leaned back against the porch.

"You can't stay. You're not on this case, Harry. I took a chance bringing you here as it is. They're going to want to come get the body soon. If they see you here, you could get in serious trouble."

"Sure, thanks for the chance, Luna. Speaking of which, where's my wand?" Harry held out his hand expectantly. Luna looked ashamedly at the ground in front of her, pulling his wand out of her pocket and placing it in his outstretched hand. "I'll leave this for later."

"We really need to go." She quickly changed the subject.

"Luna, the last time something like this happened the house was burned down." Harry tried to meet the girl's eyes, but she seemed intent on the clouds of mist that rouse when she exhaled. "I can solve this, I just need to stay. Besides, you wouldn't have to worry if they hadn't taken me off the case in the first place."

"But that might be a good thing." Her eyes lit up and she reached to pull him up again. "You need some time off."

"So I've been told." He grunted as she pulled him up to his feet again.

"It's almost Christmas. You could get away, maybe stay in Hogsmeade for a while." He really _could_ use a break.

"The house?"

"Don't worry, I'm sure there are others on this case."

"Alright, I think I like that idea." Luna jumped up and down, giggling frantically. "If you came with me."

"Wait . . . What?" She stopped suddenly, eyes wide. "Oh Harry, I don't think I can."

"Well then I'm not going anywhere." He made to sit down again, but Luna grabbed his hand. He could have sworn he saw fear in her eyes.

"Fine, I'll see what I can do."

-;-

"Brayden, I need you to do me a favor." Harry stood in his office, gathering last minute supplies to take with him to Hogsmeade. He looked very out of place clad in his long winter coat and earmuffs.

"How can you possibly ask me for more?" Brayden looked half-dead, sunken down in his chair, surrounded by paperwork. _Imagine that, he actually did have work to do._

"Easily. I need you to investigate Luna's apartment while we're in Hogsmeade." Brayden shot straight out of his chair, an incredulous expression on his face.

"Hold it, you're taking her to Hogsmeade?" Harry could have throttled him.

"The favor, Brayden."

"I can, for a fee of course." Thank Heaven there was a proper supply of paperweights in the office.

-;-

"Thank you so much, Johnathon, you have no idea how much I appreciate this." Luna hugged her best friend, a fellow researcher in the Department of Mysteries. She ruffled his jet-black hair playfully before turning to continue packing.

"Do you want me to remove the body before I set it on fire?" John had a dull, monotonous voice, untrue to his character.

"You'll find it's already been removed." He nodded at her, smiling sadly. He didn't approve of his 'little girl' going anywhere more than five miles from the Department. "Oh, and one more thing. Can you just check on my apartment every once in a while?"

"Sure thing, your majesty." She punched him on the shoulder lightly before glancing at the clock.

-;-

10:00 p.m. sharp.

Luna snapped into place beside Harry Potter, beaming from ear to ear. They were riding a train from platform nine and fifteen sixteenths to Hogsmeade, tired of apparating so much. Harry linked his arm with hers, a smile not so sincere gracing his lips.

This should be fun.

**A/N-**_ Well. . .that took a while. And there were so many inconsistencies that I tried to clean up. _

_Anywho, Merry Early Christmas, because there isn't going to be an update any closer XD_


End file.
